


Like no one ever was

by classicpleistocene



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dancing At The Club, Eventual Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, First Date, Ice Skating, M/M, Otabek is a gentleman, Rated for Yuri's language, Star Gazing, bonding with pets, boys wearing make up and nail polish, but that's okay he's a good kid, dj!otabek, fuck gender am i right, he doesn't know Otabek's name until later on, he's also secretly the most Extra(TM), like very minor but still, mentions of having been bullied, otabek is team mystic, pokemon go rivalry au, there's a lot of f-bombs, victor is a retired ice skater, welcome to the madness cameos, yuri enjoys the rivalry, yuri is a mess poor baby, yuri is team instinct, yuri's parents are victor and yuuri, yuuri owns a tea shop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-10-02 10:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10216325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/classicpleistocene/pseuds/classicpleistocene
Summary: DJBEK. IT’S WAR.-ICETIGROr: the Pokémon Go Rivalry AU I'm sure somebody must have asked for





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please go see the **amazing fanart** that [betelxeuse](http://betelxeuse.tumblr.com/post/161285952984/as-if-he-couldnt-get-any-hotter-hes-gone-too) on tumblr did! ♥
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you so much Severe Minxfor beta'ing the first chapter and Nerily for beta'ing the rest of it ♥
> 
> I've had this rivalry fic in my head for a long time and now that I'm writing it I see it as my precious child. I hope you all enjoy it! (It should be readable even if you haven't played Pokémon Go!)  
> For Yuri:  
> dad= Yuuri  
> papa=Victor  
>    
> Find me on Twitter: [@cl_pleistocene](https://twitter.com/cl_pleistocene) or [on Tumblr](https://aftgonice.tumblr.com/).

Sunscreen, phone, charger, water, running shoes.

That’s all I need to become the very fucking best.

I shout a goodbye to my dads, who have finally accepted that this is what I’m going to do the whole summer.

“Yurio, remember to buy food for Makkachin!” My dad shouts.

I sigh, but file the reminder somewhere in my brain.

I run down the staircase and nearly bump into the old lady from the second floor, who has no qualms shouting something in my direction. I don’t even bother apologizing anymore, since all that’s ever gotten me is more fucking shouting.

The hot July air hits me as soon as I step outside, but I’ve gotten used to walking miles in the heat this past week. As long as I have enough water and sunscreen on, I’ll be fine.

Wish I’d known that a week ago. When the game came out there was no time to think. I went out in the street without even taking my fucking keys, caught Pokémons until my feet hurt and my dads had to call and ask where the fuck I was and why I had locked myself out.

The worst thing was the sunburn I got. My skin is still peeling off my shoulders, and for once I agree with my dad for scolding me about not wearing sunscreen.

It’s still a couple of hours before I can collect my coins, so for now I decide on the best route for getting the most Pokéstops.

I figure I might as well try to change it from yesterday’s a little and explore new places in my city. Not that I’d ever admit it, but there’s some hidden gems in this shit-hole of a town, like the tiny park I discovered two days ago while trying to find a Dragonite.

I take my time walking and catching, spotting other zombie-like trainers with their eyes fixed on their screens. Some kids I recognize from my school, and I’m glad they’re too immersed in virtual reality to look up and see me. I graduated one month ago, so I can finally pretend they’ve never existed and move on with my life.

When it’s almost time to collect my coins, I consider again what the best route is. There’s six gyms in my radius, and three more off-screen in my district. The three closest to me are all blue, so I start defeating those after I plug my phone to the portable charger.

I don’t even have to take a look at the strongest trainer to know who it is.

_DJBek_.

My worst enemy.

He started showing up in all the gyms around my district and I swear he’s just as relentless as me. He’s at my same level as me, except he had to go and choose Team Mystic over Instinct, so now we’re stuck stealing gyms off each other’s noses every fucking day.

Fortunately he seems to stick to a morning schedule, whereas I’m more of a sleep-till-noon kind of person.

I stop at the supermarket to get dog food after I beat his ass, and when I get back home, I own a total of nine gyms and have enough coins to buy one more Incubator.

It’s my dad’s day off, which means he’s made his favorite food for dinner, katsudon, but papa refuses to let me sit at the table until I’ve gone and washed the sunscreen off my face.

“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to shower before bed-”

“Yurio, your skin can’t breathe with that stuff on. You’ll break out.”

He’s right of course, but I let out an annoyed comment as I head to the bathroom. I actually care about my skin almost as much as my papa, _Victor Katsuki-Nikiforov,_ retired legend of ice skating, five times Grand Prix gold medalist, first of his name, mother of this blond-haired, green-eyed dragon, and certified drama queen.

I lock myself in the bathroom, and after a while my phone rings as I’m putting papa’s fancy face cream on. When I check it I see it’s Mila.

> **Mila:** yuri!!! :* how r things????
> 
> **Mila:** u should have come 2 italy

 

I type out a quick reply.

> **Yuri:** and thirdwheel the whole week?
> 
> **Yuri:** you really hate me don’t you
> 
> **Yuri:** install the fucking game btw
> 
> **Yuri:** you gotta help me defeat the level 10 gyms

I head out and sit at the table. Papa scolds me for using his expensive cream again and dad and I laugh it off.

“ _Yuuuuuri_ ,” he tells dad. “It’s no cream for a kid.”

“Oi, I’m eighteen-”

“Victor, he didn’t get his love for skin care routines from _me_.”

I hide my smile in my hands. My parents are so weird and extra but I’d throw myself under a bus for them.

***

The next day, I help out dad in his tiny tea shop.

The only positive thing is that there’s a Pokéstop right there and I can use a lure while I wait for customers  that just won’t come because they see _tea_ store and stay the fuck away from it. If only they actually fucking read the sign that says “cold tea blends for summer”.

I’m catching the thousandth Pidgey of the day when dad reappears with two ice cream cones in his hands.

“Here you go. Any customers while I was gone?”

“None,” I reply in Japanese as he hands me my ice cream.

He switches to his native language as well, seeing that we’re alone. “I wonder what we can do to make them come,” he sighs.

We eat our ice creams in silence, while an idea starts forming in my head. I don’t want to tell him before I’ve done some more thinking, so I just make a mental note to remember about it later.

“Dad, can I go now?”

“Yes, yes.”

I’m almost out of the shop when he calls me back.

“Yurio, wait.”

What is it now? I look at him but he just gestures me to go back inside and sit behind the desk. I do as he says, hoping whatever it is it’ll be quick.

When I sit down, he says, “Don’t you want to put your hair up? It’s so warm outside.”

He starts braiding my hair and putting it up in a nice up-do, like he used to do when I was little. When I was less of a brat and actually allowed both of my dads to do nice things for me. I am filled with shame and sadness at the thought of my earlier teenage years and how badly I must have treated them. I’m not ashamed of them or angry at them anymore, not like before anyway, but  at the same time I don’t know how to fix our relationship. I suppose letting him braid my hair without complaints is a start. Plus, I’ve always loved having my hair done nicely, but I’ve never been able to do it myself.

I thank him quietly and head out.

***

This asshole is starting to piss me off for real. He seems to be everywhere. He owns more gyms than he can even gain coins from, and I just don’t fucking get it. I bust my ass off every day to steal as many as I can, hoping that my Pokémons will still be there the next day, but DJBek just can’t give me a fucking break.

By now he must know me too. I’m sure he laughs his ass off to see my weak attempts at taking gyms back.

That’s why today I brought chalk with me. Logically I know I will gain nothing from this, but I just can’t help it. I just hope it won’t rain tonight before he can see it.

 

> **DJBEK. IT’S WAR.**
> 
> **-ICETIGR**

  
I write it on the sidewalk, where one needs to stand in order to defeat one of the gyms in my district. An old lady side-eyes me, but I don’t give a fuck.

I go home feeling smug and accomplished like the little shit I am.

***

I promised papa I’d help him out with the kids at the ice rink, so I spend the next morning there. I keep the group busy while papa evaluates one kid at ame and takes note of everybody’s weaknesses.

Kids gross me out for the most part, but on the ice I find I can be ten times more patient than off it. When a little girl asks to see my jumps, I act like I don’t know what she’s talking about, until they practically beg me to see them. I skate towards the center of the rink to gain momentum and show off my jumps. The kids roar in excitement and I can’t hide my grin, even as papa scolds me from the other side of the rink.

I get back to the kids as I try not to think about how much better my jumps would be if I’d stuck with ice skating instead of ballet. A quick glance back at my father tells me he’s thinking about it too, like he has any fucking right to blame me for not wanting to be compared to him for the rest of my life.

***

I take a detour  to where I left my message yesterday before heading home, not exactly sure of what I’ll find. I expect  to only find my message, but my heart jumps when I see something’s been added with blue chalk.

 

***thumbs-up drawing*  
                               -DJBek**

**  
** A fucking thumbs-up. Just when I thought this shithead couldn’t piss me off more.

I grin all the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please don't hesitate to let me know what you thought of this, I'd really appreciate it!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuri leaves for a week and misses his archenemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter tries to show you some more layers of Yuri, his character and his feelings about this rivalry, as well as the interactions with his parents, his pets and his parents' friends.

My parents have a lot of friends all over the world. There’s papa’s friends, former competitors of his, and dad’s friends and family back in Japan.

Papa’s best friend, “uncle” Chris, is a really fun Swiss guy, with a loving husband and a beautiful cat, and he recently bought a new mountain house, where he decided to invite us on a whim.

That’s so nice, right?

_Except the fuck not._

Not when I _just_ declared war on that Team Mystic asshole.

Now I’ll be away for a week and he’ll have free rein to do as he wants. What’s worse, he’ll think I’ve given in. I can just picture him laughing at me, with his level ten gyms that I’ll never be able to get back by myself.

What a shithead.

“Yurio, stop biting your nails,” papa interrupts my thoughts.

I look up at him and for a second I consider flipping him off. I know it’d be unfair. It’s not his fault, or Chris’s fault, that I just got myself a rival and I’m enjoying this too much to be looking forward to a week away on the Swiss mountains.

Call me a spoiled piece of shit and I’ll agree with you.

I sigh and get up, deciding I need some fresh air. “Can I take Makkachin out?”

My parents exchange a look they’ve perfected over the years, that essentially means: _we’re both dying to ask him what’s wrong and why he’s acting this way but we should probably just give him time and hope he’ll come talk to us._ As if.

“Sure,” dad says with a tired smile. “Just bring a hoodie, it’s cold out.”

Makkachin heard the conversation and is wiggling her short tail. When we go out, she lets out a delighted bark, and I feel guilty as fuck because I haven’t brought her out myself in what feels like ages.

“I’d bring you to catch Pokémons with me but it’s too hot for you during the day,” I say quietly.

The night air is cool and a nice change from the heat wave we’ve had for the past week. I decide to enjoy the walk without playing much, only letting the game run in my back pocket to make sure the eggs will hatch.

I barely look where we’re going. I’m pissed that I always feel angry for the smallest things, that I’m an ungrateful piece of shit, and that I know I’ll feel guilty for complaining after I end up enjoying our stay in Switzerland.

We reach a nearby public garden and I unleash Makkachin as I sit on a rusty bench, but she doesn’t seem to want to run freely, and looks up at me with puppy eyes.

“Get up, silly,” I tell her, and she jumps on the bench, resting her head on my lap.

We stay like this for a bit, and then I start talking to her because she’s not human and can’t understand or judge me.

And yet she licks my hand when my voice almost breaks and I have to take a couple of deep breaths before continuing.

“Who even _am_ I without my shitty attitude?” I say at last.

She looks up at me as though she understands this is the last thing I’m going to say.

I’m getting cold anyway.

“Let’s go back, girl.”

***

“ _Comment puis-je vous aider?”_

I stare blankly at the lady behind the small store’s counter. Let papa handle the French, I’m here for some Swiss chocolate.

Papa charms the old lady with his perfect pronunciation while dad and I grab every different kind of chocolate we can find. When we get back to the counter to pay, she stares for a while, confused at the mix of Russian and Japanese in our interactions. I grin at her and she frowns, accepting papa’s money.

We wander around the little Swiss town until dinner time, when uncle Chris and uncle Markus meet us at a fancy restaurant.

The conversation lands on me while we’re halfway through our fondue.

“So, Yurio, how are you enjoying the summer after graduation?” Chris asks in slightly accented English.

I see papa starting to reply instead of me but stopping himself. It’s something he’s always done and I’ve been telling him how it bothers me when he answers a question directed to me, and he’s been doing better lately, catching himself with a guilty look. I can’t hold back a little smile, and decide to reply uncle Chris honestly. “It’s been great so far. I’ve been helping these two dorks out, both at the rink and at the tea shop, and I started playing this augmented reality game, so that gets me out of the house a lot.”

I see recognition in their eyes, and Markus says, “Oh, I think I’ve heard of that. The Pokémon one, right?”

I nod and start telling them how the game works, and why I think it’s great. I tell them about the stories people shared online. Depressed people finally having a reason to get out of the house, sedentary people of all ages rediscovering a more healthy lifestyle because of all the walking, and getting their friends and their family to do the same.

By the end of the evening, my parents are looking at me a little proudly, and Chris and Markus have downloaded and installed the game on their phones and are impatient to try it out when as soon as we leave the restaurant to go back to their house.

***

I’m tired, hungry and slightly jet-lagged, and when I see Makkachin and Koshka behind our neighbor I storm into her apartment to hug them.

I hear papa giving a shaky laugh. “Thank you so much for taking care of them, Lilia.”

“You’re welcome, Victor. You know I don’t mind, and you all deserved a vacation.”

Makkachin slips away from my arms and tackles papa almost to the ground, but Koshka meows her contentment as I scratch behind her ears.

We thank Lilia again and head upstairs to our flat with our pets.

After a shower, I lay on my bed to message Mila.

 

> **Yuri:** bitch I’m back
> 
> **Mila:** wooot welcome back bb!!!
> 
> **Yuri:** meet at the park tomorrow at 10am
> 
> **Mila:** so early omh (ಥ﹏ಥ)
> 
> **Yuri:** have your phone charged we gotta take back the gyms
> 
> **Yuri:** bring me black nail polish mine’s dried out

  
***

Mila’s been doing her homework while I was away. She’s nowhere near as strong as me, but defeating gyms with her is so much easier, which is fucking nice since almost every gym around us is at the highest level.

After two hours we’ve barely gotten two of them back, we’re out of items to revive and heal our Pokémons, and our batteries are dangerously low, so I suggest we head back to my house and collect items on the way.

“I feel like after playing for a while I almost _know_ the other players. I just keep seeing their names all the time.”

“Yeah, like that DJBeka,” I snort. “Fucking asshole.”

She laughs. “What is it about him anyway? There’s at least five or six other players you could complain about, but you’ve been bitching about him all day.”

I didn’t tell her about our messages last week, and I find it’s still something that I want to keep to myself. “He was one of the first ones that I noticed, and he’s also as active as me. We’ve even hit level 20 on the same day, for fuck’s sake.”

“Wow. You sound like a stalker.”

“I’m not a fucking stalker. I just noticed by chance.”

“Right.”

“Let’s charge up and eat. Round two this afternoon.”

***

In our little vacation in Switzerland, I was bored as fuck playing Pokémon Go. I thought the game lost its fucking appeal to me barely two weeks after its release, but I wrote it off as a the small village’s fault, with barely any gyms or Pokéstops, at least compared to my hometown.

When we came back to Russia, my interest in the game immediately peaked again, and I’d be lying if I said part of it isn’t thanks to my archenemy.

Mila can’t help me out today, but I’m all set and ready to roast this guy’s ass. I approach the spot where I first wrote him a message, and I only realize I was half-expecting to find something new when I see blue chalk marks from a distance.

I run to check it out.

 

> **Welcome back, tiger.**  
>                  **-DJBek**

I bite down a grin. This is what I’d been missing in Switzerland.

I take out my new yellow chalk and start drawing a middle finger on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • _“Comment puis-je vous aider?”_ = "How may I help you?" in French.
> 
> •(blue is Team Mystic's color and yellow is Team Instinct's, in case you don't play PoGo and didn't know)
> 
> •I called Chris's boyfriend Markus
> 
> •Makkachin is the best
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope this chapter was interesting to read, I needed to show a bit more of Yuri before moving on to more juicy stuff [like Yuri _actually_ meeting Otabek], and give him a little time and distance to understand his feelings about this rivalry.
> 
> • **Edit:** I didn't realize this might not be clear if you haven't played the game, but the reason Otabek knows that Yuri is back is because he's seen Yuri's character/nickname at the gyms he (Otabek) previously held. Since he noticed Yuri hadn't been playing all week, he also noticed that he's been playing again, and that's why he wrote him his message. I hope it's clear now!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they meet?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little bit short, but I hope you enjoy it! Next one is almost ready, so you won't have to wait long before I post it.
> 
> Thanks [nerily](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nerily/pseuds/nerily) ♥

I’m only about three minutes of walking from the next gym, and on the screen I can see someone is already fighting it. Team Valor owned it at level seven when I checked earlier, so I’m relieved that I don’t have to fight it myself. Hopefully it’s some other Team Instinct player.

When I get there, still on the wrong side of the road, it’s not hard to spot who’s playing. For one, the only way to access this gym is to stand around awkwardly on a mostly deserted sidewalk with no stores or bars, and there’s only one person doing that right now.

Then there’s also the fact that the person playing is the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my life.

Fuck.

I hide behind a trashcan and watch him tap unhurriedly on his phone. I can’t see all of him because he’s standing behind a row of parked motorcycles. I realize I must seem like such a creep, but I can’t take my eyes off of him. He’s just so impossibly cool, a bit shorter than me, hair in a undercut, a helmet hanging from his elbow, black clothes and black leather jacket even though it’s fucking July. He seems like everything I’m not.

After a minute or two he moves, wears his helmet and mounts one of the parked motorcycles.

_As if he couldn’t get any hotter._

He’s gone too soon, and only when he disappears into traffic I remember what he was doing, what _I_ was here to do, and take a look at my phone, a suspicion forming in my head.

The gym is now blue, and I tap the Exeggutor towering over it. The gym opens up to reveal both Pokémon and player, and I gasp out loud.

_Son of a bitch._

I just met DJBek.

***

 “So you just have to…use this lure thing? And it attracts Pokémons?” Papa looks confused by my idea.

“Pokémons _and_ customers, papa.”

Dad turns to us with a grin, keeping a hand under a wooden spoon he’s holding in mid-air. “It’s brilliant, Victor! I wish we had thought of this sooner,” he says as I try the rice off the spoon.

I nod that it’s cooked and say, “I had, but then we went to Switzerland and I forgot again. Anyway, you didn’t let me finish. It’s not enough to just do that, we will have to add a couple of tables and start actually serving iced tea. So people don’t just stand around outside.”

“Of course, of course. We’ll have to renovate a bit, then.”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll help too, right, Yurio?” Papa intervenes.

I roll my eyes. “’Course.” Contrary to common belief, I would never suggest something like that and then not help my family out.

Makkachin comes barking into the kitchen, Koshka in tow, and stands tall on her hind legs leaning against me. I take her paws in my hands. “You wanna help too, girl?”

She lets out another bark and wags her tail.

***

“Hit send for me.”

“Huh?” Mila looks up from her phone.

I unplug my laptop and scoot closer to her with my chair, putting the device in front of her, on my bed.

“Just do it.”

“What’s this?”

I groan and lay down on my stomach next to her. “I need to advertize this thing. I had to make a Facebook page for the shop and now I have to invite all my ‘friends’ to like the page.”

“What friends,  Yuri?”

“Exactly. I hate everyone. I should just delete fucking Facebook.”

“…but in the meantime you need me to press send because…?”

“Because I hate reminding them of my existence with this stupid thing? I don’t know. Isn’t it really awkward when you receive an invite from someone you barely know anymore? I get them all the time. It’s like, _hey, come like my page, person I used to bully in fifth grade!_ Just do it for me. _Please._ I can’t. _”_

“You really are friends on Facebook with people who bullied you?” I don’t like that her voice is softer as she says this.

I shrug. “Everybody added everybody on there in high school. Whatever. Just hit it.”

She sighs but complies.

We play the latest expansion of _Hearthstone_ for a while, and when I check back quite a few people have liked the tea shop page. To my horror, two have also sent me private messages.

One is dad’s friend, Phichit, who says he’ll come over to help with the renovations this week. I thank him and tell him I’ll tell dad, even though I know they must already be messaging each other.

The other one is JJ, annoying as usual.

> **JJ:** lmao I cant believe ure still playing pokemon what r u 12
> 
> **Yuri:** shut it Jizz Juice

Mila snorts a laugh and I shut the laptop close.

***

It’s totally a coincidence that I found DJBek again.

I was just heading back home for a quick shower before having to go to dad’s shop when I saw someone fighting at the gym I had just defeated, and I decided to trace back my steps and take it back as soon as they left. This happens a lot while playing, but I’d never willingly gone back and try to reclaim the gym. I definitely didn’t think of the possibility that my hot rival might be the one removing my Pokémons. I _definitely_ wasn’t hoping that he would.

But thank fuck he is. This time he gifts me with a 360 degrees view of him, which is a nice way of saying that I can finally attest that he has a fucking nice ass, to which his black close-fitting jeans do a whole lot of justice. Too bad he’s already leaving, his Pokémon already in place in stead of mine. I think he must be on his motorcycle again since his helmet is hooked on his elbow again. Did nobody inform this asshole about the “go” part of the game?

I wait until he’s out of sight again and cross the street to take back what’s mine, and sit down on the steps that lead to the small church in the middle of the semi-deserted plaza. It doesn’t take me long to replace his Lapras with my Snorlax, and when that’s done I scroll briefly through my notifications (papa reminding me to be at the tea shop in one hour to help dad and Phichit with the renovations) and put on a different playlist on my phone.

I take a bottle of water from my backpack, and when I look up DJBek is in front of me.

_Talking_ to me.

“Hi. You’re IceTigr, right? I’m DJBek, nice t-”

I don’t let him finish. I shoulder my backpack and run, only stopping when I realize he’s not following me.

And why should he? I’m just an idiot who ran when a handsome guy approached him.

I wouldn’t run after me either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading ♥


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they meet **properly** and talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi loves! Thank you for sticking around for this AU!  
> Your feedback has been great so far and I love you all.   
> This chapter was fun to write! I didn't have a beta this time, but I hope you'll enjoy it.

The shop has kept me busy for the past couple of days, and the rest of the time I haven’t gone out of my way to play like I used to. I only let the game run on the short way to work and catch the occasional shitty Pokémon. I hardly take any gyms and the only one I pass on my way to the shop is the one where DJBek and I first left our messages. Sure enough, the day after I ran there was another message there.

>           **I’m sorry  
>                -DJBek**

I didn’t reply. Was I supposed to wipe my ass with his unwanted apology? Who the fuck does he think he is, stealing my line like this? Fuck, he didn’t do anything wrong and he still apologized. It’s like, he should apologize for apologizing, not for coming to talk to me. Fucking shithead.

When I arrive at the shop I’m surprised to see papa there. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the rink?”

He lights up with his wide smile that’s always reminded me of a heart. “I’m happy to see you too, Yurio! The lesson starts in half an hour.” He squeezes me tight for a second and then turns to look at dad. “I was just missing the love of my life.”

_Gag._ “Hey, dad, good news! We don’t need to buy sugar anymore. Just tell your husband to keep talking like that and we’re set.”

“Yuri!” Papa whines.

I grin and shove him lightly into the arms of dad. When I hear smooching sounds as I try to put on my apron I say, “Get a room or I’m moving to Antarctica and taking Makkachin with me.” Jesus, you’d think they’re teenagers if you saw them. How can they be like this after almost twenty years of marriage is beyond me.

Dad places a hand on papa’s chest. “Go, Victor, don’t make the kids wait. Yurio and I will manage without you.”

Papa blows us a kiss and I shoo him away. Dad sighs lovingly and I can see in his eyes that he’s never going to get tired of this.

I guess I could have been adopted into a worse family after all.

A few hours later I hand a strawberry iced tea to a blue-haired teenage girl, but the friendly smile I’ve been careful to keep on my face all afternoon falters and I freeze when I see my next customer. I take in his stern look, his black clothes that only enhance the muscles beneath. No leather jacket this time.

I’m not usually one to think such things, but he almost looks godly with the afternoon light filtering behind him.

_Fuck._

DJBek doesn’t look surprised to see me, but his voice is too high when he says, “Hi.”

“H- Hi.” I can’t believe he’s here. _What the fuck_. He approaches the counter and I remember my role and why he must be here. “What can I get you?”

“Uh, uhm… A lemonade iced tea?”

A classic. I nod and start pouring it in a plastic glass.

He says in a soft tone, “I saw the lure had your name on it. You really _are_ IceTigr then.”

I look at him briefly but I can’t read his expression. “Yes. I uh-”

“I’m sorry if-” He starts at the same time, but we are interrupted by my dad.

He nudges my side lightly. “Yurio, take a break if you want to talk to your friend,” he says in Japanese, and the way he says _friend_ tells me I’m going to hear about this later. How the fuck he was able to sense the change in atmosphere is one of the mysteries of the universe, probably something that only a parent can do, but I’m grateful for it now. “I can take it from here.”

I nod before I know I’m doing it, but I feel like my pride wouldn't recover if I ran away from DJBek a second time, even if just metaphorically this time. I tilt my head towards the few customers waiting in line behind him. “If you want to talk you can go sit over there,” I point him to one of the small tables we managed to pack inside the shop. “I’ll bring your tea in a second.”

His face seems to light up. He nods and heads for the table. I get some tea for myself and grab two straws while dad takes care of the other customers.

So far I’m proud of me for not screwing it up yet. Let’s see how long it takes for me to want to crawl into a hole and hide from the world, or, well, from DJBek.

I bring our teas and sit down at the table he occupied. He accepts his with a tiny smile and I find that I have to look away.

“Thank you.” He wipes his condensation-wet hand on a napkin before offering it to me, expecting me to take it. “I’m Otabek, by the way.”

_Otabek._ So he has a real name, although one I’ve never heard before. I hesitate for a second, but the look in his eyes convinces me to shake his hand. “Yuri.”

He lets go and says with a smile that is half mischievous and half gentle, “It’s very nice to meet you, Yuri. I came here to properly apologize for the other day, but I didn’t realize you were working. I guess I should apologize for distracting you as well.”

I laugh a bit. At myself, mostly, for thinking he was an asshole. “You have nothing to apologize for. It’s almost closing time anyway - not that many people left, and my dad can handle them. I guess I should be the one apologizing for running away like that. I uh- I don’t really know what happened.” _You’re handsome and I’m an idiot._

“Don’t apologize, Yuri.” I like that he uses my name. I like the way he pronounces it with his slight accent. “I probably came off as creepy.”

“No,” I say a bit too forcefully. Did he really think that’s why I ran? Now I feel ten times worse about it. I decide I’ll gladly make a fool out of myself if it means he’ll stop worrying about being a creep. “I only ran because I thought you wanted to beat the shit out of me. You know, for taking back the gym. Which, uh- It doesn’t make any sense, because you were actually being nice to me, but I guess out of habit I just-”

He reaches one hand across the table and pins mine to it. “Yuri. It’s okay. I get it.”

His hand is gone too soon. I avert my eyes and try not to fidget. “It’s just, we’re rivals, aren’t we?”

Otabek laughs, but I don’t think he’s mocking me. He says, “Of course we are. Doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, too.”

_Friends._ Is this a second chance? “I’d like that,” I say.

He smiles. We sip our tea in a comfortable silence as the last customers pay and start leaving the shop.

“So, Yuri, do you work here every day?”

“Not really, but my dad owns the place, so I help him out sometimes. Lately our afternoons have been busier, you know, with the lures and stuff, and I’ve been helping out more.”

“That was a really good idea. I would have never come here if I hadn’t seen your name, you know. I’m usually not a tea person, but I love this.” He tips his cup towards me.

I start to reply, but I see dad approaching out of the corner of my eye. “Yurio, is everything all right?”

I nod, and he looks expectantly at Otabek. I realize that I should probably introduce them, but Otabek stands up before I can do anything and offers dad his hand.

“I’m pleased to meet you, sir. My name is Otabek Altin.”

Dad shakes his hand firmly. “Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov.”

“Thank you for allowing Yuri to take a break. I didn’t mean to distract him from work.”

I’m impressed by the way he speaks to my dad, and it would be fun to watch this interaction if I wasn’t dying inside.

Dad looks baffled and says, “Uhm, no problem. We’re almost closed anyway and there aren’t many people coming in anymore.” He takes a quick look in my direction. “But feel free to stay as long as you like. Can I get you two anything else? On the house, of course.”

I look at Otabek, and he shakes his head slightly.

“No, thank you, dad,” I reply.

Dad _winks_ at me, for fuck’s sake, and goes back behind the counter. I die inside a little, even though I know Otabek can’t have seen it from his angle.

 “Yurio?” he asks, sitting down again.

I shrug. “That’s what they call me at home. My dad’s name is Yuuri, as you heard, so it can get confusing.”

“They didn’t choose your name, I take it?”

“No, it was just a coincidence. Something that happens when you adopt a five year old.”

Otabek looks pensive, as if I’ve said something deeply philosophical that he needs to ponder. Spoiler alert: I haven’t, but he looks like that kind of guy who actually _thinks_ before continuing a conversation. I kind of love that. “So is that, like, your official nickname?”

“Oh hell no. Only they can call me that.” I crack a little smile. “You can keep calling me Yuri.” _Just call me whatever the fuck you like, as long as you stick around._ The horny little devil’s voice inside me is officially the worst.

“What about ‘IceTigr’? Where does that come from?”

I laugh. “Oh, well, I used to ice skate a lot when I was a kid. And I like cats, and, um, ‘IceTigr’ sounded better than ‘IceKitten’.”

Otabek starts laughing as well. “Sounds more intimidating for sure.”

“What about DJBek?”

“Well, I’m a part-time DJ,” he says simply.

“Really?” He keeps surprising me.

“Yeah. I work at a club nearby. You should come by one of these days.”

_Wait._ He wants me to come see him DJing? _He wants to see me again_?

Fuck. What does that mean? What if it’s just something he’s saying to be polite? Maybe he doesn’t actually want me to go to his club. It must be small talk or some shit. Is it? But what if it’s not? I don’t fucking know, shit-

“Yuri?”

I realize I zoned out. “Shit. I mean. Sorry. Yes. I’d like to.”

Despite my supreme inability to interact with people, we somehow ease into a conversation and I don’t have time to wonder why or how at some point I stop feeling awkward and start enjoying this. We share things about each other, and for the first time I find the differences with another person to be fascinating rather than annoying.

“I like your accent,” I blurt out at some point. It’s out, so I stick to it as if it was something I planned to say all along. “Where are you from?”

“Ah, I’m from Kazakhstan. I moved here to study a couple of years ago.”

A quick scan of my brain tells me I know shit about Kazakhstan and I make a mental note to research it later. Thankfully we’re distracted by the sound of dad closing shutter of the main entrance halfway.

He notices we’ve gone quiet. “Uh, sorry. I needed to close so nobody comes in anymore.”

That means we’ve been talking at least for half an hour, but it felt like much less.

Otabek looks at his phone and says, “Don’t worry, sir. I need to go home anyway. Thank you for letting me stay.” I try not to show my disappointment that this is over, but then he looks at me and adds, quietly, even though I’m sure dad can hear it, “I really enjoyed talking to you, Yuri. I’d like to meet you again, if that’s alright with you.”

I never knew you could feel yourself blush until this moment. “Y-You mean at your club?”

He smiles. “It would be nice if you came by, but I was thinking something more private. I’d love to get to know you, and I can’t really do that while DJing.”

His honesty unsettles me, and I hurry to reply before it shows on my face. “ _Yes_.” It comes out like a punch, and I try to amend it. “Yes,” I say more softly. “I’d love to get to know you, too.” It’s the truth, and it scares me.

I ignore the fact that my dad is still somewhere around the shop and let us out on the quiet sidewalk. We exchange numbers and I wave awkwardly as he heads home, apparently without his motorcycle this time.

I hear dad pulling down the shop shutter completely and turn around. When he’s done, he faces me with a smile. “I sense there’s a story behind this.”

“Ask me tomorrow, dad.”

“Okay.”

That’s what I wanted to hear, but I’m surprised. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

 “Also… Don’t tell papa?” He always makes such a big deal out of everything. And this kind of is a big deal for me, but it’s _my_ big deal, and I want it to exist in a quiet place for at least the rest of today.

“No?”

“Not yet.”

“Okay, kid.”

“Dad?”

“Mh?”

“Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was this cute? I hope so. Beka is such a gentleman, isn't he?
> 
> The way I planned things, the next chapter will be the last one.  
> While I was writing this I outlined around 4 other stories and while I'm sad to see this AU approach its end, I'm also ready to write something different ~~and much more explicit than this~~.
> 
> As always, any and all feedback is all a fanfic writer needs to keep going, so go ahead :)
> 
> You can also follow me [on tumblr](https://aftgonice.tumblr.com/) and talk to me, I don't bite.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which pirozhkis are eaten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, what's up?
> 
> So, uhhh. What a week we've had, am I right? I, too, have welcomed the madness, and have changed my plans for this fic a little bit. What this means for you all is that this isn't the last chapter anymore, like I originally planned, but (probably) the second to last. I hope that's a welcome change. 
> 
> Enjoy this chapter!

**Otabek:** Hi Yuri, how are you?

**Yuri:** hi, I’m good you??

**Otabek:** I’m fine, thank you. I wanted to thank you again for taking time to talk to me yesterday and letting me apologize

**Yuri:** it’s ok it wasn’t a big deal

**Yuri:** wait

**Yuri:** I meant that it wasn’t a big deal that I took a break from work!!!

**Yuri:** it was nice talking to you and it kinda was a big deal for me bc I don’t usually like talking to people idk

**Yuri:** it’s just you’re really easy to talk to and that’s a first

**Otabek:** Thank you, Yuri. That’s a very nice compliment, I’m honored

**Yuri:**..it’s the truth

**Otabek:** I really hope you didn’t change your mind about meeting again

**Yuri:** of course not :)

**Otabek:** Would it be okay if we met today? If it’s too soon or you’re busy we can do another time

**Yuri:** no, today after work is fine

**Otabek:** Would your parents be against letting you ride on my motorcycle?

**Yuri:** I’m 18

**Yuri:** they can’t tell me what to do

**Yuri:** …but no, they’re cool with that

**Otabek:** I’ll come pick you up after work then

**Yuri:** awesome

**Yuri:** I mean ok

**Otabek:** Later, Yuri

**Yuri:** later :)

 

I can’t remember the last time I was so civil or used smileys while texting, or felt self-conscious about what I wrote. Koshka meows loudly for attention while I reread the conversation for the tenth time, and I finally remember it’s time to give her food.

Papa is in the living room playing with Makkachin, and as soon as he sees me get out of my room he says, “Good morning!”

“Morning.”

I start eating breakfast (courtesy of dad, he always leaves me a full plate even when he knows I’m going to wake up late), and papa comes sit in front of me.

“Can you come to the rink tomorrow? There’s a big group and I’d rather have some help with the kids.”

I could do without the kids, but any excuse to be at the rink is a welcome one, so I say, “Fine. What time?”

“4pm. Dad already said he can manage on his own at the shop.”

“Okay,” I say.

I finish my plate, give Koshka her food and decide this is probably the best time to tell papa about Otabek, since he’ll notice my absence at dinner. “Papa, I’m going out to eat this evening.”

“Oh, sure! With Mila? Do you need money?”

“No, I have money, thanks. And no, I’m- It’s not with Mila.” She would have been the perfect cover, if it wasn’t that dad already knows about Otabek. And I also generally dislike lying.

“Oh?”

Here we go. “It’s with a boy.”

He basically jumps out of his chair. “YURIO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You have a date?! OH MY GOD.” He runs to the bathroom and comes back with a few items. “Here. We have the same skin tone, so it should be perfect for you too. Come here, let me swatch it.” He pumps a tiny bit of his Dior foundation on his finger and swatches it between my jawbone and my neck. It’s not like I wasn’t expecting this reaction, so I let him do it, raising my chin so he can take a better look at the color. “Ahh, perfect,” he says. Of course, I could have told him that, since I secretly use it once in a while. I’m still surprised that he hasn’t noticed yet.

I sigh. “Papa, I’m going directly after work, I’m not going to wear foundation.” He opens his mouth to speak, but I anticipate him and put up a hand. “Nor concealer. I don’t even know where we’re going.”

“Aw. It’s okay, you’ll still be beautiful. And your skin is flawless.” He squeezes me and squeals, “My baby is going on his first date.” Makkachin barks happily, jumping around us. I swear she must be his reincarnation because their moods go hand-in-hand. I run my fingers through her fur after papa lets me out of the hug. He asks, “Who is this boy?”

“A sort of…friend. We just met and huh- We just want to get to know each other. I don’t know if it’s even a proper date. Like. Romantic or whatever.” My face burns.

“Oh, Yurio. The way you told me…I don’t think it’s going to be a not romantic date.” His smile dies on his face after he says this, and it seems like he’s just thought of something. I mentally prepare for the worst. “Oh my god. Yuri.” He never calls me “Yuri”, so this is bad. “Yuri, baby. Do you know how to protect yourself? Not that anything should happen today, but I just want you to know how certain things work-”

Yep, I’m fucking done, thank you very much. “BYE PAPA.” I storm out and call, “Makkachin, let’s take a walk!”

***

“I’m really sorry, ma’am.”

I hand the woman the right order while dad tells her she doesn’t have to pay, since I screwed up her tea the first time.

When she leaves, the shop is momentarily empty and dad squeezes my shoulder and says, “It’s okay. It’s normal to be nervous before your first date.”

 “It’s stupid. It’s not like anything will come out of it.” He’ll see what kind of asshole I am and never want to see me again.

“Of course it’s a possibility, but he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you, didn’t he? You must have made a nice impression on him, Yurio.”

I shrug.

He says, “Will you let me do your hair? You let papa paint your nails.”

I smile and agree to it. It’s true, after coming back from my walk with Makkachin papa apologized for making me uncomfortable and said it’s obvious that I would know about that stuff at eighteen. He then offered to do my nails as a peace offering, using one of his favorite nail polishes, the burgundy one that I’ve wanted to try since forever. I was hesitant at first, since I don’t really know if Otabek would like it, but I wanted it, so I agreed.

Dad puts my hair up in a way that, he says, won’t get in the way of the helmet and will keep my hair tidy. I thank him, and we sit around and chat while we wait for more customers.

***

Otabek stops the motorcycle in front of the store and dismounts. “Hello, Yuri,” he says with a barely contained smile.

I fidget with my hands.

_Act cool_. “Hey. Hello. Hi.”

Nailed it.

His hair is perfect when he removes his helmet, and I just have to stare at the way he lifts a hand to it and lets his finger run through it once, tilting his head a little to the side.

He’s wearing a black backpack (as well as his usual all-black style - I wonder if he ever wears any other color - not that I would mind it if all he ever wears is black) and he takes it off his shoulder and momentarily drops it on the floor next to his motorcycle.

Dad comes out to close the shop and greets Otabek. He goes to shake his hand and I try to calm down while he asks permission to bring me on his motorcycle. I don’t know why I find it endearing instead of annoying, since I already told him it was okay, but here I am, while weird, old-ass words like “chivalrous” randomly take shape in my head.

When Otabek turns to me, he points to the backpack. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wear it while I’m driving. It’s not too heavy.”

I wonder what he has in there, and why he needed to bring it on our date, but I pick it up. It looks and feel full, but it’s true, it’s not too heavy. I shoulder it, and he hands me a second helmet. Like in the cheesiest of romantic movie, when I take it from his hands our fingers briefly touch, but I hurry to wear it and nod when he asks, “Are you ready?”

I wave dad goodbye and sit behind Otabek once he’s on the motorcycle. I don’t really know what to do since I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.

He probably senses my hesitation, because he says, “Just hold on to my waist.”

If I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t mind having an excuse to touch him. He starts the engine and then we’re flying through the city. He didn’t tell me where we’re going, and normally I would have asked, since I don’t really like surprises of any kind. But I trust him even if he’s a Team Mystic.

The sun hasn’t set yet, and it’s still warm enough to enjoy the wind hitting my face. I’m thankful to dad for braiding my hair up, because it would have become a nightmare of tangles if I had let it down.

We leave the city and its traffic and after a short time we drive along a green meadow on the top of a small hill that conveniently faces the sunset. Otabek stops the motorcycle there, on the side of the road.

I wait a bit, but when he makes no move, I ask, “We’re there?”

“Yeah. You need to get off first, Yuri.”

I comply and remove my helmet. I’m not exactly sure what we’re doing here, so while he secures the helmets to the motorcycle I glance around to see if there’s any clue. The place is literally empty. What the fuck? I thought we’d be going to a restaurant or some shit.

I feel his hand on my shoulder and turn around.

“You can give me the backpack now.”

“It’s fine. What are we doing here?” I start walking to find a spot with a nice view of the town below. He follows me.

“We’re eating pirozhkis. I hope you like them, I have made them in different tastes.”

I turn to look at him, my eyes wide. “Pirozhkis, you said?”

He pauses. “You don’t like them? I also brought some other stuff because I wasn’t sure, so you won’t starve even if-”

I stop him. “Pirozhki is my favorite food, Otabek.”

Otabek smiles and resumes walking. This time I wait for him to catch up with me and follow him when he’s one step ahead of me.

“What is this place, by the way?”

“One of my thinking spots. When I moved here from Kazakhstan I started looking for one like the one I had back in Almaty. Eventually I found this place where barely anyone ever comes, even though it’s just right out of town.”

True enough, it took us just around ten minutes to come up here with his motorcycle after we left the city. Now I look down to where the sunset light plays with the thin mist hovering above the city. I take in the silence, and I see why he likes this place.

“Do you come here often?”

“Just often enough. When the weather’s good.” He stops abruptly and I almost bump into his back. He smirks and says, “By the way, you might want to open the game right in this spot.”

I laugh and shake my head. “I can’t believe this.” Sure enough, when the game loads, my character is standing just where a gym is. Thankfully it’s already yellow, and all I have to do is add my Pokémon to the two already in it. “Done. So are you just going to let me have this gym?”

“Sure. Why not? It was part of my plan.”

“And the say romanticism is dead,” I deadpan.

He lets out a low laugh. We keep walking, and I can tell he walks like he already knows where the perfect spot is.

Eventually he stops and I give him his backpack. He takes out two food containers and takes out a blanket to put on the ground. I help him lay down the food and drinks and we sit down, the food between us. I haven’t felt nervous since we left, but now I’m wondering what I’m doing here. I have exactly zero experience in dating, so I have no idea how any of this should work. Like, is it considered acceptable if I just stare at him until the date is over? Coming up with things to talk about isn’t my forte, and _he_ also keeps staring at me. Oh fuck, is this what this is? Two dudes having a staring contest?

“Who will laugh first?” I mumble in a sing-song tone.

Apparently it’s the right thing to say, because it breaks the ice and Otabek smiles almost apologetically. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually stare like that.”

I flush and avert my eyes. “Shall we eat?”

“Sure.” He reaches for one of the food containers. “These pirozhki are with meat, there’s a couple with cabbage, and those,” he points to another one, “are sweet ones, with apples. There’s also _shelpek_   -Kazakh flatbread.”

“You made all this?”

“Yeah.”

I reach for one of two beer bottles he brought, and he takes the other one. We raise them in a silent toast and I enjoy the first sip of it. It’s still cold and a welcome break from the heat of the day, even though it’s already getting colder.

I take one of the meat pirozhkis and from the first bite it’s clear that it’s the best one I’ve ever had.

“Holy shit, that’s amazing.”

He winks. “I’m glad you like it.”

I have never met anyone who wears bad boy clothes and undercuts and winks at you in the sexiest of ways and yet acts so…so _proper._ Someone who makes the best pirozhkis , who speaks so softly but rides a loud, badass motorcycle, who looks like he could kill you with his jawbone but politely introduces himself to your parent while drinking iced tea with you.

We eat and talk about neutral topics, but I make it a point to find out more about Otabek’s interests. When he talks about music and DJing, I can see that that’s where his true passion lies. He speaks so fondly of it that it’s not hard to come up with questions for him, and I find that I don’t only do it for conversation’s sake.

Sunset has turned to dusk, but there’s still enough light to be able to see clearly, because he says, “I like what you’ve done with your hair. And with your nails.”

I flush. My hair has always been pretty and soft, and I’ve gotten used to being complimented about it, although it’s mostly usually by old ladies. But my nails are usually either bare or with some shitty black chipped nail polish that I occasionally got teased about  in school, so this is a first.

He holds out his hand. “Can I?”

I hesitantly reach my hand towards him. He takes it in his and inspects it for a little while, then he gently brings it to his lips and traces a soft kiss on the tip of my fingers. His eyes are open and locked into mine.

_Holy fuck._

My mouth must have fallen open because he grins at me as he lets my hand go. He grabs something from his backpack and hands it to me. A jacket. “It’s pretty cold already. I brought one more for you, since I knew you were in your day clothes.”

_Fuck me._

I wear it and even though I’m taller than him the jacket falls way too loose on my narrow shoulders, but I welcome the warmth. He puts on a similar one that fits him perfectly and starts packing the containers. I wonder briefly if this means the date is over, but then he scoots closer to me and lays down with his arms behind his neck.

“Are we looking at the stars?”

“Yes,” he says simply, and I don’t find it nearly as stupid as I thought I might have when I lay down next to him and do the same.

Our breaths are the only sound as we watch the sky turn completely black - or, what would be completely black if it wasn’t for the stars.

 “Hello, light from millions of years ago,” I say in my best dramatic voice.  

For a minute he doesn’t say anything. Then, slightly amused, “You knew I was going to point out how far the stars are.”

We’re lying so close that I know he can feel me shrug when I say, “You seem like the type, yeah.”

I think of this evening with him. How he thought of everything, food, blanket, even bringing me clothes in case I was cold. “Thank you. This was perfect.”

I look to the side, and see he’s already facing me with a smile.

“Otabek?”

“Mmh?”

“We should leave.”

“Do you want to go home?”

I shake my head. “Not yet.”

He hums. “Where do you want to go then?”

I smirk, feeling for the key in the front pocket of my jeans. “I know just the place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh so they had their first (planned) date!
> 
> (A little note because it wasn't something I could include in the text: when Yuri says that he was sometimes made fun because of his nail polish, the reason is **not** because he's a boy! I just wanted to clarify that, because there are no gender stereotypes in this little AU. What his classmates did make fun of is the way his trademark black nail polish was always chipped because he's too lazy to remove it smh.)
> 
> I want to thank **nerily** for reading and shitposting this chapter with her great comments.
> 
> I'd love to read what you guys think of this chapter, I'm sorry I'm such a slow writer and didn't manage to update last week! Also sometimes it's really hard for me to come up with good ways to describe something in English, so I get frustrated and write tumblr posts instead. I still hope this was fun to read :)
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr [@aftgonice](https://aftgonice.tumblr.com/).


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they skate and dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please go and see the amazing fanart that [betelxeuse](http://betelxeuse.tumblr.com/post/161285952984/as-if-he-couldnt-get-any-hotter-hes-gone-too) on tumblr did!

“Are you sure this is fine?”

“Yeah. It’s not breaking in if I have the keys, is it? Besides, it’s not like we’re stealing anything.”

I close the main door behind us and lead Otabek to the equipment room. I hate wearing the shitty rink’s skates but they’ll have to do for now.

I don’t want to switch on the light because that’d be a dead giveaway that someone’s in here, but there’s enough light coming from outside to be able to see where we’re going. We find skates in our sizes and head towards the ice.

Otabek is slower wearing them, so I look at him when I’m done with mine. I don’t know what prompted me to bring him here, in this place that means so much to me. I wasn’t planning it, I didn’t know I’d suggest coming here until the moment I did. Thankfully I always bring the rink keys with me. They’re about as important to me as my house keys, as if I’m going to randomly need to come here, for comfort or to skate out my frustration or whatever, and to be fair that’s happened a couple of times. More than a couple. It’s funny that I never think about going to the ballet studio, but that’s never been my safe haven. I love ballet, but the ice is where I started and where I feel the most free.

When Otabek is done we walk to the rink and I help him with his blade guards. “Ready?” I ask, entirely sure that I sound too excited for this.

He looks uncertain, but he nods and steps on the ice one foot at the time. I hold on to his biceps to steady him. When I think he’s found his balance, I let him go and glide backwards to give him space to try his first steps. “Okay, not try walking towards me. Just lift your feet and walk.”

He tries but barely catches himself from falling on the first step.

“No, no, no. Bend your knees slightly, like this. Just over your toes. Good. Keep your core tight. Your arms out. Okay. Now march forward.”

This time it works better, and he looks happy to have learned something. Or perhaps not to have fallen. Yet.

“Okay, now swizzles. I think it’s the easiest way to move forward, so try this.” I position my feet and show him once. “Okay, now you. Put your feet in a V shape, let the heels touch. Again, bend your knees slightly. Keep your arms up for balance, like this. Now push forward, use your thigh muscles. Good, now squeeze your thighs together again to let your toes touch.”

I show him how to do forward strokes and how to stop, then leave him to practice a little bit on his own as I warm up in the other half of the rink, still keeping an eye over him in case he falls. At some point I notice he’s leaning with his elbows on the railing and watching me, so I skate towards him.

He’s smiling, and he says, “Show me something.”

“Something? As in, a program?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know, I mean… I haven’t learned a proper program in years. All the ones I know are from when I was a little kid.” I rest my elbows on the rink wall, facing the opposite way while Otabek keeps staring at the rink. “Like I told you, papa is like this big deal of figure skating. Well, was. So naturally he put skates on my feet soon after they adopted me. And I fucking loved it, right? I’m not one of those people complain that he started me on something so early. He choreographed easy programs for me and he always knew what music I would love to skate to. He was really sad when I decided to switch to ballet, you know?”

“Why did you?”

I shrug. “I realized pretty soon what it meant to be Victor Nikiforov’s son _and_ be an ice skater. The constant comparison, and very likely the being overshadowed by him. So I asked to do ballet classes. He never questioned it, but I know it hurt him. Especially because I did keep skating, just not competitively. I only skated for fun because I’ve always felt the most free on the ice.”

Otabek moves slightly, and that gives me an excuse to push back and step in front of him, at arm’s length. I extend both hands and he takes them, and I move us slowly to the side and then in lazy, big circles as I keep talking. Holding hands like this should feel very intimate, but I’m in my element here, and besides, holding hands is definitely less intimate than him kissing my fingers earlier.

Otabek does his best to not let me drag his whole weight across the ice, and tries to keep up the pace by alternating swizzles and small tentative strokes.

“I know you’re more focused on not falling right now, but once you’re not worried about that anymore, it’s such an amazing feeling to do this, just your body and your thin blades. I wonder if I would have kept loving it if I had actually stuck to figure skating, if the competition would have ruined it. I don’t regret my decision to do ballet because the ice is untainted from all the ugliness a skater career might bring.” I pull a little too hard, and Otabek almost loses his balance. I quickly help him steadying and add in a low tone, “It’s probably stupid anyway.”

He says, “That makes a lot of sense actually, Yuri.”

“You know, my papa? He told me how he almost gave up skating when he was still at the top of his career because that was literally all he would do all day to keep being the best. The only reason he didn’t give up was because he didn’t have anything else, like, at all. Didn’t wanna end up sitting on a couch all day. Barely had any friends, no life at all outside the rink. Then he randomly met my dad and that gave him a reason to keep skating. It’s all so sappy and shit, but he said he was finally inspired to skate because he had real feelings to weave into his performances, not just fake ones. So he could train less and still be at the top of his game, and when he retired it was because of his age and, well, because they were ready to have a kid. So yeah, bottom line is that even things you love could end up hurting you. Or something like that.”

Otabek smiles and for once I don’t worry to have said too much. “Your parents, how did they meet?”

I laugh. There’s no way in hell I’m telling him about Crazy Banquet. Not today, at least. “I’m not going to ruin our first date by telling you about theirs.” As soon as the words are out, I regret them. I come to a halt and look him in the eyes. “Wait. This- This is a date, right?”

He comes a little closer and draws small circles on the sensitive skin at the base of my thumb. “Of course it is, Yuri. I hope it’s okay that I’m so straightforward, but I really like you, you know?”

I’m suddenly shy again and the cuts across the ice are too interesting not to look at, but I nod. Fuck, I like him too, a lot even, but I don’t know how to say it back. The thing is, I don’t think he even expects me to say it back, so I don’t feel bad for not saying anything. Instead I ask, “So, you wanted to see me skate?”

His face lights up, and I take him out of the rink where he can watch me, and take my phone out to find the right music.

“This is going to be the most embarrassing shit, okay? Just don’t laugh,” I say stupidly, because of course he’s going to laugh. I _want_ him to laugh, because somehow I don’t think he’ll laugh _at_ me. I find what I’m looking for and set the phone in Otabek’s hands. “Start it when I’m at the center.”

He reads the title but it’s in Italian so he doesn’t understand it. All the better, this will be a surprise.

I reach the starting position and [the music starts, a piano first, and then a voice followed by a similar one.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FpNtUaIJ4IM)

I have to laugh right away because there’s no way an eighteen year old doesn’t look ridiculous skating to this. I’m focused on the music and the skating, but I can hear Otabek laughing together with me, as I predicted. It doesn’t sound mean though, and I like the way he laughs.

The two sopranos go through their duet repeating only one word, “Miau.” They really do sound like cats and I still remember my reaction when I first heard it more than ten years ago.

I’ve improved and modified the choreography gradually over the years as I learned to land new jumps, but I’ve always only done so when nobody was watching me. I’ve learned better and more impressive programs but this first one always stayed in my heart, and maybe that’s why it’s the one I chose to show Otabek.

When the duet ends I’m out of breath more from laughing than from skating, and I make my way to Otabek, who is holding his side and still laughing. “That was perfect, Yuri.”

“Oh, please. It was one of the first choreographies papa made for me, but I changed it a bit over the years to make it more difficult. It’s just a silly little thing.”

“I didn’t know this thing existed,” he says, pointing at my phone. Well, at the duet it played.

“I know, right? Despite the internet going crazy over cats hardly anyone knows about it, but it’s hilarious. When I told my parents that cats are my favorite animals, papa choreographed it for me and taught it to me for my sixth birthday. I was the happiest fucking kid that day.”

“I didn’t know you could be so adorable.”

I fake pout and say, “Why, don’t I always look adorable?”

“No,” he says.

It’s not the reply I was expecting, and I try my best to mask my disappointment, but I’ve never been a good actor.

He realizes it. “‘Adorable’ is hardly the first word that comes to my mind when I think about you. Even when you ran from me, I couldn’t shake off the image of how fierce your eyes were, how determined you look, regardless if you’re playing Pokémon Go or skating. So no, adorable isn’t the right word for you, usually. But here the tiger showed me his inner kitten, and I like both versions.”

I feel heat travel towards my cheeks. _Otabek likes me_. He really does. He’s said it before, but the way he said it now… It send a shiver down my spine. Nobody ever liked me, not that way. Not many people even ever liked me other ways. Sure, Mila does, I guess, though I don’t know why since I’m an asshole to her sometimes, but she’s maybe the only one. Otabek has only met me properly twice but somehow I believe him when he says he likes me. I want to say it back, because I do, I really like him, but the words that come out of my mouth are, “Shall we go? I’m getting cold.” I hope it doesn’t come out too harshly, but Otabek just smiles and nods.

Twenty minutes later he stops the motorcycle in front of my apartment and I give him his helmet back. He takes his off too and we stand in front of each other without saying anything, just smiling and looking at each other. It should be awkward as fuck, but strangely it’s not.

“Can I hold your hands for a bit?”

I nod and offer him both. It’s different than how we held hands at the rink. That was out of necessity, but this is deliberate and wanted.

“Thank you, Yuri. This was perfect,” he mimics my words from earlier that night.

“I didn’t do much. You took care of everything.”

“You showed me the rink.”

“You showed me the stars.”

_Well, that didn’t come out right_. Too melodramatic and shit. But Otabek smiles and his smile is not mocking but soft.

“Will you come at the club the day after tomorrow? I’m DJing the first two hours but I’d love it if you were there after.”

“Think I can show off my ballet skills on the dancefloor?”

Otabek laughs and messes with his hair, a gesture that makes me wonder if he’s nervous. “I’m sure you can dance to any kind of music, but I won’t complain however you want to dance.”

“Okay then, I’ll come. But I’m going to bring my friend Mila so we can watch you DJ and I don’t have to sit there alone for two hours.”

“Of course, that’s perfectly fine. I can’t wait to see you again.”

I let go of his hand and take a few steps back until I’m on the doorway. Maybe my heart won’t burst if I keep some physical distance. “I can’t wait either.”

***

“Keep still, Yuri!”

“You’re fucking tickling me.”

“Am not! Just keep your eyes closed and let me work. Your eyelashes are too damn long, it’s not my fault if the brush tickles them.”

I feel Mila work one of the million make up brushes she brought with her in the crease of my eyelid. She’s been messing with purple and black eyeshadows for half an hour and when I asked to see the progress, she said I’d need to wait until she was done. Not like it’s my face or anything. For all I know I look like a fucking panda right now.

To top it off, my parents are hovering and trying to _very stealthily_ eavesdrop for any detail I might tell Mila about my date from two days ago. Tough luck, since I already told her everything there was to say via text as soon as I came home that evening. They also tried to pry things directly out of me but I only told them the bare minimum, which is already much more than they should expect me to share.

Still, I saw how happy they were when I told them that I felt really good about my date with Otabek and that I’m really into him. It’s really too soon to be planning a future together or someshit but I really want us to maybekindasorta become a thing.

“Here, you can look now,” Mila says, and as soon as I get up to go look at the mirror, papa barges in my room.

“Oh my God, Yurio, you look absolutely stunning! Mila, you did a wonderful job and oh, the colors complement his eyes perfectly!” He fist-bumps Mila. _Unironically_.

“Can’t you even try to make it less obvious when you’re eavesdropping, old man?”

He straight-up ignores me and plants a loud kiss on my cheek. “Yuuri,” he yells. “Come see our son!”

“I haven’t even looked at myself yet, just let me go.”

Dad walks in with a round mirror and offers it to me silently with a smile on his face. I take a look and...the makeup is beautiful. It’s black close to my lashes, fading to purple and then to a neutral tone that blends with my skin.

“It’s...thank you.”

An hour later Mila and I make our way through the crowd in the club where Otabek is DJing. The music is loud and I can see Otabek focused on his work, his brows slightly furrowed.

We don’t find a free table, so Mila asks two girls if we can sit with them. They barely agree before getting back to their make out session. I’d be uncomfortable as fuck when Mila disappears to get us drinks if it wasn’t for the fact that I can’t keep my eyes off Otabek and barely register anything else. It’s not the first time I watch him without him seeing me, but he looks so different here, the dim lights coloring his skin, hair and clothes in different shades of purple, blue and green.

I notice how his hands trace the DJ set and how his head moves to the beat and how he scans the crowd dancing in front of him. Fuck, I hope he’s looking for a blond head.

When Mila gets back I drink my cocktail fast so I can go where he can see me, dragging her with me to the dancefloor.

After a few minutes of dancing with her, I see the exact moment Otabek notices me. We lock eyes and he acknowledges me with a nod and a small smile.

I hold eye contact and keep dancing. When the [song ](https://open.spotify.com/track/4s9P15MhJw4DnkE93dYgBc) changes, I recognize it and I adapt to its languid, erotic rhythm and [lyrics](https://genius.com/The-blancos-radio-lust-lyrics) . Otabek smirks and I purse my lips together to avoid doing the same. _I know your lips could keep me warm_ , I mouth along with the lyrics, and I point to Otabek on _your lips_.

He falters for a second but doesn’t react otherwise, not right away. Only when the song goes, _You came here with intentions_ he raises his fingers in a gun motion and _shoots_. I bring my hands to my heart in a dramatic way.

Mila has seen all this and she laughs loudly over the music. We keep dancing until Otabek leaves the DJ station and comes to us. I lead us back to our table where the music is quieter and we can talk, then I make introductions.

“Mila, this is Otabek. Otabek, this is the only one who can stand hearing me bitch, which happen a lot.”

Otabek goes for a handshake that Mila ignores, opting for a crushing hug instead. Otabek clearly didn’t expect it, but he politely brings his arms around her. “I hope he’ll bitch to you too now,” she says.

The girls that were seated at our table before are gone, so Otabek and I sit down and Mila once again goes to take drinks for the three of us, giving Otabek and I a moment alone.

I smile at him and he shifts closer to me on the cushioned bench of the club. He brushes his fingers against my hand as a silent permission to take it, and I turn it palm-up and grab his, intertwining our fingers. It’s the first time I’m so bold, but then again, he’s done much more already. The memory of his lips lingering on my fingers has kept me up the past few nights, so much that I have a hard time discerning what’s reality and what has been only part of my fantasies and wet dreams.

He holds my hand tight, and with the other he touches my face lightly, staring at me. “You’re so beautiful, Yuri.”

“I.. It’s the eyeshadow,” I say weakly.

“It looks amazing on you, but it’s not just the eyeshadow.”

“Thank you,” is all I can reply. _God, I’m the fucking lamest._

Mila’s arrival saves me from embarrassing myself further, and she and Otabek start chatting. Well, she asks stuff, he answers. It sounds like a fucking job interview, and I can’t fully comprehend the weird mix of feelings that the scene in front of me gives me. I like how protective she is of me, and I know she wants to find out if Otabek is a good guy for me. But it feels weird that she’s the one asking him things I still haven’t asked him myself, where in fact I probably should have. But our conversations so far eluded small talk, so I never really thought to ask him what he does in life besides DJing. We find out he studies sound engineering, which sounds fucking cool and awesome and totally fits his night time job.

The conversation falls on how we met, which Mila obviously already knows everything about, but she says she wants to hear Otabek’s side of the story. I decide to give them a moment of privacy to talk about me freely and go get another drink for myself. When I get back to the table again, I regret not taking longer. I hear Mila saying, “..know Yuri actually saw you first?”

Otabek looks at me, and I silently ask the floor to open under my feet and swallow me. “I didn’t know, no,” he says.

I sit and sip my drink, playing with the hem of my jacket and a napkin while they keep talking. The DJ starts playing a slower, more melancholic song, and Otabek stands up and holds out a hand for me. I stand up and discard my jacket, revealing the loose grey shredded shirt underneath, then I take his hand.

I turn around to ask Mila if she’s fine waiting at the table alone, but she doesn’t wait for me to speak before waving us away. “Go, you two. I’ll just get one more drink and find some people to talk to.”

“Poor them,” I tease her.

Mila shows me the middle finger and Otabek and I get to the dancefloor. One would think that being a ballet dancer I’d be used to dancing with someone, but this is not ballet and Otabek is not like the thin and light and _female_ ballerinas that have no effect on me. This is muscular and hot Otabek and he takes my other hand too and places it on his waist, the position made comfortable by our height difference.

“Do you like the music?” He asks while we dance slowly. I feel his hands on my back, his fingers trailing softly along the rips in the fabric, touching my bare skin underneath.

I force my body not to shudder and take the opportunity for an easy compliment. “I liked the other DJ better.”

He doesn’t speak for a while, but his gaze never leaves my eyes. His fingers keep touching me softly. “Is this okay?” He asks, and I can only nod.

When his hand disappears completely under a bigger rip of my shirt to lay flat on the plane of my back, I can no longer pretend that he isn’t affecting me. “Otabek-” I hiss, and my face shoots down towards his. He once again holds my gaze, daring me, and a small part of my brain notices we have stopped dancing, our feet steady on the floor. I let our foreheads touch and his eyes travel back and forth from my lips to my eyes.

Then my mouth is on his and I feel his head angle slightly to the side. I’m too distracted to focus on the kiss at first, because there’s a lot of things they don’t tell you before you kiss someone for the first time. I’d never given too much thought to kissing, so I never realized I would be able to taste Otabek with my own mouth. And he tastes good, like the slightly bitter cocktail he’s just had.

He parts his lips a little bit and I do the same. If he’s more experienced than me, he never told me and I never asked, but I follow his lead and I’m pretty sure I’m doing okay because he tongues the inside of my lips gently, and I wonder if he can taste the sugar and the fruitiness from my cocktail like I can taste his.

I feel him pressing me against his body, his hand still on my bare back, and finally all thoughts about kissing are swept away by the kiss itself and the feeling of our bodies pressed together. My hand finds the base of his neck and I guess the music must have stopped because _fuck_ , I hear Otabek groaning softly and the sound rings through my own mouth and it does things to my body that shouldn’t happen in public.

Slowly, Otabek pulls back and I open my eyes. I see him swallow as we both try to catch our breaths.

“Yuri,” he murmurs, and he brings his other hand at the side of my head, caressing my cheek with his thumb.

“I… That was-”

He interrupts me with a quick kiss, the gesture so casual it almost shocks me more than the kiss we just shared. “We should probably get back to Mila, it’s rude to leave her alone like that.”

I know he’s right, but I never want to stop kissing him, and I hope there’ll be more of that later. We get back to our table, where Mila is playing with ...my phone?

“Oh, you’re done? I just caught you a gym.”

She hands me my phone back and I see she’s defeated the Pokémon gym named after the club. “Nice. Was it blue?” I ask her.

She looks at Otabek, and he coughs and replies “Yeah, my Pokémon was in there.”

“Got your ass beat by my friend, huh? I wonder if she’s trying to tell you something,” I say, and Mila winks at me.

“What do you guys say we have a walk and hatch some eggs? Or… would you prefer to be alone?”

Otabek and I look at each other and nod.

“A walk is fine.”

 

* * *

  **Next February**  

“I can’t believe my first starter is a fucking Chikorita,” I mutter under my breath.

Makkachin runs back to me. The park is empty of people and full of snow, and she loves playing with it. She runs right back in the direction she came from, as if to tell me to hurry up following her. I keep walking slowly to catch all the new Pokémons I can find.

When I look up again, she’s walking towards me along Otabek and wagging her tail excitedly.

I smile at the sight of the two of them. “Hey, handsome.”

“Hey, kitten.”

I lean in for a kiss and steal his phone right out of Otabek’s hand. “Show me what you got so far.”

“Yura-”

I move away quickly before he can snatch it away. “Where the fuck did you catch a Cyndaquil, asshole?”

“Just outside my house.” He crouches down to pet Makkachin and she licks his hands first, then his face.

_Big mood, Makkachin, big mood._

When he stands up, I put the leash on Makkachin again and we start walking to the park entrance closer to dad’s tea shop, where we’re now selling hot tea as well as the usual loose tea. We can both use some of the warmth now.

Normally we’d be holding hands, but we’re both busy catching the new second generation Pokémons that have been released with today’s update.

“Feels like old times, right?”

“Old times? That’s only six months ago, Beka.”

I see him shrug with the corner of my eye. “It feels longer. And we haven’t played for months now, this update makes me feel nostalgic.”

“You big sap.”

“I miss being your rival,” he continues, trying to hide his amusement from me.

“You’re still my fucking rival. Shut up.”

“Then what should we do about that gym over there?”

I lift my eyes to his. “It is _so_ on, Beka.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you **nerily** for your awesome betaing/shitposting ♥
> 
> Thank you all for your patience!!! I'm really sorry it took me forever to finish and publish this chapter ;_;
> 
> I'm very emotional about this being the final chapter of this little AU. I really hope the ending was to your liking (it was also almost more than twice as long as the previous chapters lol). As you noticed, I tried to sneak in as many Welcome to the Madness cameos as I could. (I'm still so shocked about WttM y'all, also if you remember the previous chapter, Beka kissed Yuri's fingers and I was thinking the whole time "ohh isn't that a bit too much, Beka???" and then KUBO DID THAT I'm speechless tbh.)
> 
> I hope the links to the songs and lyrics work for you. I tried to find "Radio Lust" on YT but it's not there :/ so I could only link it through Spotify sadly. (Shout-out to victuri-oh-nice on tumblr because she's got me hooked on this song with her Unsteady playlist)
> 
> Writing notes is so hard so I'd just like to once again thank every single one of you who left me kudos and comments and came to talk to me on tumblr about this AU. As always, I'd love it if you could tell me what you liked in this chapter and as always constructive criticism is well accepted!


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